


Dreams

by melxncholly



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Original Child Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melxncholly/pseuds/melxncholly
Summary: When Carth dreams, he dreams of Telos.His wife, standing in the kitchen and fixing herself a mug of caf, and Dustil who would run in with dirty hands and knees from hours of sitting and playing in the dirt and grass. He usually doesn't realize he's dreaming until he wakes up.This time he knows.
Relationships: Carth Onasi/Female Revan, Carth Onasi/Revan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first time writing for kotor, and carth and revan in general. this is an idea ive had since i started the game, and have been wanting to write but havent really had the motivation to. 
> 
> i know this probably isnt the most canon compliant, and that carth is probably ooc, but tbh? i dont really care. i had fun with this and thats all that matters, and if i want to write fluffy shit for my ship then i will!
> 
> i also have incredibly specific tastes for revanasi and no one can write them how i like but me. 
> 
> also, my revans name is pronounced EYE-RAY-UH, and her nickname EYE-RAH UwU

Carth wakes up to the birds. His wife had a habit of opening the window in the morning, letting in the early breeze. Outside, he can hear Dustil's voice speaking softly to someone, and his wife making herself busy in the kitchen. The light from the sun shines on his face, and Carth groans, wanting to roll over and fall back asleep.    


So he does, rolling over onto his side, pulling the blanket up enough to cover his head.    


From the kitchen, he hears her, her soft voice gently speaking to someone, and then soft footsteps running down the hall. They’re much softer than Dustil’s, and he can still hear his son outside, now laughing.

Thoughts run in his sleep addled brain when the door creaks open, and his mattress dips. Small hands gently prod his shoulder before a tiny body plops itself down, right in front of him.

“Daddy,” the blanket is pulled down and he blinks a few times, to make sure he’s really seeing what he’s seeing.

It’s a little girl, smiling at him, no older than three. Her dark brown hair is in two braids, two bright blue eyes looking into his own.    


“Good morning daddy.” She says, and he sits up, instinctively taking her into his arms when she reaches for him.

“Good morning Myra.” He says, and doesn’t even question as to why he  _ knows _ this little girls name. “Did mommy send you to get me sweetie?”

She nods, little braids bouncing. “Mommy said that you were sleeping too long!”

“Too long?” He laughs, and that sounds like her. “Well, let’s not keep her waiting.”

He pushes back the covers, Myra’s little arms wrapped around his neck as he stands. She smells like maple syrup, and he can feel her sticky fingers on his neck. 

The kitchen is warm when he walks in, and smells like fresh caf. His breakfast sits on the table, and he sets Myra at her seat. The sun shines through the window, and he can see her, and Dustil, outside. His son is broad-shouldered and grown, and Carth regrets missing so much-

This is when he knows he’s dreaming.

When Carth dreams, he dreams of Telos, before, when things were good, and he was happy. 

His wife, standing in the kitchen and fixing herself a mug of caf, and Dustil who would run in with dirty hands and knees from hours of sitting and playing in the dirt and grass.  Morgana would always chide him, sending him to the sink to wash up before he would sit and eat.  But she isn’t the one who comes in through the door, no, it's Iraea who walks in and gives him a gentle smile.

He knows he's dreaming.

A little boy pushes himself past her, and makes his way towards Carth, crawling up into his father’s lap to give him a hug.

“Good morning daddy.” He realizes, this is the child Dustil was speaking with. Ira walks over, her black hair grown out, not longer in its short ponytail. She bends over and kisses his cheek, before giving a kiss to the top of their son's head. She pushes back his hair, smiling. He looks like her, dark hair with little beauty marks all over his perfect face. He has Ira’s eyes, like Myra does.

“Dustil was showing Ronan how to cut wood for the fire pit tonight, wasn’t he Ro?”   


Ronan nods, grinning. “Ye-yeah! And Dusty said he was go-gonna take me to go swimming l-later!”   


“ _ If _ the weather stays nice.” Dustil adds, walking in. He’s older, older than what he’s seen on Korriban. “Morning dad.”

Carth can’t help but stare, his mouth dry. Ronan scrambles off Carth’s lap, and goes to sit next to his sister, digging into his breakfast as well.

It feels almost like a crime to be dreaming of her, here, now. Like he’s betraying Morgana somehow. Carth has spent so long mourning his family, that, even the idea, the  _ dream _ of a new one is betraying her memory.

“You’re lost in your head again.” Ira says, placing a mug in front of him. The sound of the children talking is muffled, and Dustil comes in and out of the kitchen, a blur in the background. 

All he knows right now is Iraea, sitting next to him, her hand in his as she reads from her datapad. 

It’s quiet, frustratingly domestic. He drinks his caf and she smiles at him. He smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“You know, you have to move on at some point.”

“What?” The children are gone, Dustil no longer there. Just himself, and Iraea.

“You’re not doing yourself any favors handsome, stuck on the past.” She smirks, pushing a lock of hair back. “You’re torturing yourself.”

“I’m  _ not _ -” He opens his mouth to argue, and Ira stops him with a finger. 

“You want to be happy again. You want to have this. It’s okay, y’know, she won’t hate you.”

He knows she’s right. Ira’s always right, even when he doesn’t want her to be. She’s the person he trusts, above all else.

“Can I?” His fingers curl around hers. He can only imagine what he looks like, face drawn and sad, while she just looks amused. 

“You really have the ‘sexy rugged and tortured’ look on right now.” She laughs, and brushes some hair from his forehead. 

“Stop being an idiot Carth. Let yourself be happy.” she says, and he wants to argue, wants to bite back at her that no, he doesn’t deserve this. He failed Dustil and Morgana and he will fail Iraea too, but she’s smiling so sweetly, and he wants to just lean forward and kiss her.

So he does.

Carth knows he is dreaming.

He wakes up sluggishly, back on the Ebon Hawk. He can hear Canderous snoring from his bunk, and Zaalbar talking in his sleep. He moves, quietly, and the cold metal floor sends a shiver up his spine.

He walks silently through the ship, and he knows it’ll be another couple of hours until they reach Manaan. HK is competent enough to watch the ships autopilot, but when he walks into the cockpit it’s Ira he sees in the passenger seat. Her knees are drawn up, and she’s just watching the empty darkness as the Ebon Hawk continues to drift.

“Ira? I didn’t know you were awake.” 

She smiles at him, something hidden behind her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep well, had a bad feeling so I thought I’d make some tea.” 

He smiles back, sits in the pilots seat across from her. “How about I join you.”

Her smile is more genuine this time. 

“I think I’d like that.”

Hours later, after Saul and and Malak and the Leviathan, after Bastila tells the truth of who  _ she is _ , Carth returns to his bunk. He’s angry, and sad, and he feels betrayed, and when he dreams, he dreams of Telos. 

Ira is still there.


End file.
